Another kind of Truth
by The Shinigumi
Summary: The holidays are here again, and Harry is thinking about family, or his lack thereof. But this year, will he find that you don't always need a family to feel safe and protected? *SLASH!* not much though... -.-;


Another kind of Truth...  
  
Author: TheShinigumi  
  
Rating: G  
  
Archived: Only at fanfiction.net  
  
My thanks: To Heeri-chan and Ra-chan for finally getting me into HP, and for Rhysenn for writing Irresistible Poison, which is the best HP fic I've read- and actually one of the best fics in general I've read. Another thanks to Heeri-chan for being my beta read and giving me so much help ^_^; I swear I'm such a baka!  
  
Disclaimer: Okay- for all the legal stuffs, neither the characters or anything to do with Harry Potter is mine, only the situations I write, and the mistakes I make. On that note- I'm writing this with only the knowledge from the first and only Harry Potter book I've read so far (and I'm two thirds of the way through _that_ even!) and the many slash fics out there I've been reading... this idea was just bouncing around in my head since the last time it rained, and so now I'm going to torture you all with it! ^_^; Eh- but if I make any blindingly stupid mistakes, be sure to thwap a little sense into me, please? C&C very very welcome! (Oh, and I know Ron's mom's name is Molly, but didn't know that when I wrote this and don't really care anyways O.o;)  
  
Warnings: If you didn't get this from me mentioning my obsessive slash/ yaoi fic reading habits, I'll warn you again- THIS FIC CONTAINS SLASH! Actually, this fic revolves around and wouldn't exist without SLASH, but the dirt-poor muggle writing this felt the need to warn all those illiterate, warning-ignoring close minded types out there. This fic also contains a little mention of Ron and Hermione het, but nothing much. Good? Good. Now we get on with the actual story...  
  
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The sky was a dark, restless grey, and seemed to cling to Hogwart's like a smothering blanket.   
Harry Potter sighed, looking up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall, feeling a little bit depressed.   
  
He was drawn out of his moodiness by an elbow jabbing him sharply in the side, and jumped. Ron was laughing, obviously enjoying this much more than Harry was.   
  
"Oy, cheer up Harry, Christmas break's only a few weeks! We'll be back again in no time..."  
Harry managed a smile and nodded, moving his food around on his plate but not really seeing it.   
Christmas break started tomorrow, and almost everyone was going to their homes... Ron's mother had offered to abduct him too, but Harry hadn't wanted to take away any of her time with her sons.   
  
So Harry was trying to concentrate on enjoying his last day before break with Hermione and Ron, but he was finding it harder than usual. Hermione had managed to seat herself on the other side of Ron from Harry, and he knew they were holding hands under the table while they ate. That was another reason Harry was feeling down- his best friends seemed more intent on making the most of their last day to spend together than of worrying about Harry. He knew they weren't _trying_ to ignore him- they just couldn't help it.   
  
After getting Harry to smile, Ron turned his attention back to Hermione, making her laugh with some joke. Harry let his mind wander, and found his eyes straying across the common room to the Slytherin table...  
  
His eyes met a pair of flashing silver ones, and for some reason Harry found that he couldn't look away until Draco blinked and broke their gaze. Feeling confused and a little warm for no apparent reason, Harry shook himself, and turned back to his friends.   
  
Not much to see there- the two were watching each other with the dumb and adoring smiles of first love, and Harry felt the uncharacteristic urge to fling potatoes at them.   
  
Deciding that it was best to remove his temptation, Harry excused himself and trudged back to Gryffindor tower.   
  
Inside, he found a sight that he was gradually getting used to- presents on his bed. Grinning a little to himself, Harry picked up a lumpy package with a note balanced on it. Already knowing what was in the package, Harry opened the note, and read it.  
  
Then he read it again, and several more times, his eyes stinging suspiciously. In simple, feminine handwriting, it read:  
  
  
Dear Harry,   
  
I know I give you these every year, but I just wanted you to know that if you want to you can visit anytime. We love seeing you, and you're as much a son to me as any of my boys- even if your hair is a bit darker. You're no trouble at all, and don't let any such thoughts enter your head.   
It's a terrible thing to not be with someone who cares for you on Christmas, and it worries me to pieces you staying at Hogwart's like that. Please write and visit,   
  
Love,   
Mom Weasley  
  
  
Harry sniffled a little, feeling like a first year, and had to pull his glasses off and swipe a sleeve of his robe across his eyes.   
  
Now he really wanted to be able to go with Ron, but he needed more time to get used to this idea... he knew Mrs. Weasley was fond of him, but he never knew she thought of him as a son.   
Feeling a little sappy, Harry replaced his glasses and unwrapped the package carefully. Inside were her usual gifts- some homemade fudge and a thick green sweater. Sniffling more, Harry hugged the sweater to his chest, glad that there was no one else in the room to see him.   
  
A few hours later, Ron drifted into the Gryffindor room with the others, and Harry was feeling no less mushy- although he had managed to stop crying some time ago.   
  
When Ron came in, Harry walked over and hugged him, much to Ron's embarrassment. Showing Ron the note, Harry beamed.  
  
"I've never had a family..." Harry managed, then had to stop talking or he would start crying again in front of everyone. Ron shifted a little, looked around, then grinned and gave Harry a brotherly bear hug and ruffled his permanently messy hair. The two boys got into a friendly fist fight, that ended with them laughing and retreating to their beds to sleep.  
  
Neville's eyes were watering at the tender male bonding scene, and he was giving Harry a happy smile.   
  
Trying not to stare at the boy, Harry gave him a strange look and curled into his covers, deciding that maybe this vacation wouldn't go as badly as he thought...  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry poked gloomily at the food on his plate, all joy from discovering his new 'family' a few days ago having disappeared the way of his fudge.   
  
Sighing for the twentieth time in as many minutes, Harry managed to drag his eyes away from the uneaten feast around him and actually look around the room.   
  
The Great Hall was just about the emptiest Harry had ever seen it; he was almost the only Gryffindor still there, and the other Houses were in the same state.   
  
His eyes landed on Draco, seated alone at the Slytherin table. Despite the fact that there were a few other Slytherins around, all of the spaces around the platinum haired young wizard were empty, and he was staring up at the ceiling with a slightly haunted look on his face. Even Crabbe and Goyle had gone to their homes for the holiday...  
  
Sensing that he was being watched, Draco's head snapped down, and when he caught Harry staring his face froze again into a snarling glare.   
  
For once, Harry didn't immediately look away from the hate in the other boy's eyes- he was still thinking about that new, almost human expression that Draco had shown in that unguarded moment.   
Keeping any sign of hatred off his own face, Harry decided to be nice to his enemy for once. Raising his goblet in a toast, Harry gave him a friendly grin and drank. Draco's eyes narrowed more, and the boy stalked out of the hall.   
  
Wondering what was upsetting the Slytherin so much, Harry considered following him- but there was really no reason to.   
  
After finally eating a few bites of the food he'd been playing with, Harry got to his feet and made his way slowly to the Gryffindor dormitory. There was no real reason to hurry- classes were over til after break and there wasn't really anything to do.  
  
It was only lunch time, after all- he still had an endless boring day to feel sorry for himself.   
  
  
  
  
  
Being in the rooms was worse. He was the only male Gryffindor left at Hogwart's, so he had the dorm all to himself. Stretching out on his red four poster, he tried to clear his head of all thought and just relax.   
  
The warmth and familiarity of the room got to him, though, and after a few moments he had drifted off into sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
Harry woke with a start, his heart pounding and sweat covering him. The only things he could remember from his dreams were a pair of laughing green eyes identical to his own, an older man with hair just like his, and a sickly green glow. Threaded through his normal nightmares was a sinister laughter, and a pair of haunted silver eyes in a black shadow.  
  
Shaking himself, Harry felt the sudden urge to get away from his thoughts. There was only one way he knew to do that, and without another thought he pulled on his shoes and raced out the door and out the Fat Lady's portrait. It didn't occur to him to pull his outdoor robes on over his clothes, or to remember the wand still resting on his covers...  
  
  
  
  
  
Flying was the most natural thing in the world for him.  
  
While he was flying, he could forget everything that was bothering him, and concentrate on the feel, the _freedom_ of it. Despite the biting chill of the winter wind, Harry was glad he had forgotten his outer robes. Dressed only in a pair of comfortable old jeans and the Weasley's sweater, he was less wind resistant- and he was concentrating so hard on not thinking at all and just flying that he felt like he was one with his broom.   
  
They did easy loops, falcon-fast dives, and complex patterns in the air, and he didn't come down until it was getting quite dark and he knew he had to.  
  
Feeling exhilerated, Harry laughed a little as flew low over the ground towards the broom shed in the dark-  
  
"OUCH! What the hell-"   
  
Squinting in the fading light, Harry guessed from the flash of silver who his victim was. His guess was confirmed when the blond boy spoke again.  
  
"Oh, it's you. Do you always make it a habit of trying to run over your schoolmates with your broom, Potter, or are you just an idiot?"  
  
Harry sighed, cursing inwardly. "Hello, Malfoy." Just the thing to ruin my day, thought Harry darkly.   
  
"Hello, indeed. Git. If you've ruined my robes you'll have my father to talk to-" Draco paused, his eyes narrowing as he dragged his gaze over Harry's body in an exaggerated way. "What _are_ you wearing, anyways? Do all the Gryffindors survive on the charity of bums?"  
  
Scowling a little, Harry climbed off his broom, heading for the shed on foot. "Sod off, Malfoy, this was a present. I happen to like it... not that you would understand that, I'm sure. After all, you wouldn't wear anything unless it cost enough to feed a family."  
  
Draco snorted, following Harry, much to the other boy's chagrin. "Why shouldn't I spend the money if I have it? It's better than being poor and wearing things like _that_." Harry gritted his teeth. He had gotten away with breaking quite a few rules at Hogwart's, but he had a feeling Dumbledore would draw the line at him killing off one of the students.  
  
Even if that student _was_ an annoying, self-absorbed narcissisic prat.  
  
"That's nice, Malfoy..." he replied noncommitally, trying to give the other boy the hint that he wasn't welcome. He had finally reached the shed, he thought with relief, and was that thunder he had just heard?  
  
A thought occured to him, and his hand paused on the knob. "Malfoy- why are you out here, anyway? I would've seen you if you were flying, and you aren't holding a broom..."  
  
Harry glanced back, and to his shock saw that Draco's cheeks were tinged faintly pink. He seemed about to answer, then closed his mouth, reconsidered, and finally snapped, "Why the hell should I explain myself to _you_, Potter?". He sneered, but before Harry could think up a comeback the sky suddenly opened up, instantly soaking them through in a diluge of rain.  
  
Squaking in surprise, Harry wrestled the door open, but was shoved aside by Malfoy. Gritting his teeth harder, Harry took a breath for his temper and followed the other boy inside.   
  
The room inside was pitch black. Harry knew for a fact that there were no candles- fire and magical brooms don't mix well. He reached automatically for his wand, then cursed, remembering belatedly that he had left it in his room.  
  
Hearing Draco mutter something similar, he had a sinking feeling.   
  
"Malfoy..." he had to speak loudly over the sound of rain thrumming and rattling on the roof. "You don't have your wand, either, do you?"  
  
After a pause, while Draco was probably considering whether or not to tell the truth, he grudgingly admitted that he had left his too.   
  
"Well. Damn. So I suppose we can't just perform a heating spell, or light spell either?"  
Draco's voice was dripping acid. "Correct, Potter, that would require us having our wands. Amazing of you to observe that..."  
  
"Oh, sod _off_, Malfoy!" Harry sighed, shivering in his sopping clothes. He had only been in the rain a few seconds- this whole situation was ridiculous.   
  
Harry hesititated, wondering if he should really voice this idea. But if he kept wearing these clothes, he was bound to catch some kind of cold or freeze.   
  
"Malfoy- I have to take off my clothes. I don't like this anymore than you do- and I'm keeping my boxers if it kills me- but they're soaking and I don't have a cloak."  
  
There was a silence, then Malfoy's voice, almost too quiet to hear over the storm. "Thanks for warning me, Potter."   
  
Wondering what he meant by that, Harry stripped out of his dripping sweater and pants and, after some very cautious groping of the wall rack, hung them carefully on an empty broomhook. Hearing a rustle of fabric, he could sense Malfoy moving in the darkness and strained his eyes to no use. Being trapped alone, nearly naked and unnarmed in a small area with his worst enemy really didn't seem like that good of an idea.  
  
Suddenly, he felt a warm, heavy weight drape itself around his shoulders, and blinked.   
"Malfoy...?" he ventured, but Malfoy had moved away again. After a second, Harry pulled the cloak closer around himself, and couldn't help but notice how good it smelled. And also that-  
  
"It's dry!" Hearing the surprise in his voice, Harry was glad Malfoy couldn't see his sudden blush.   
  
"Of course- I spelled it when I first got it. It's weather-proof." Hearing Malfoy's voice speak from close by, Harry tried to turn in that direction, but he couldn't be sure where the other boy was. It was getting a little unnerving. Shifting in the cloak, Harry breathed in deeply through his nose, trying to avoid thinking about why he was enjoying the scent so much. The cloak was _Malfoy's_- you weren't supposed to go about sniffing at your enemies, were you? Even if the smell was a little addictive... Harry's mind was briefly absorbed with trying to identify the different scents on the cloak. Some type of expensive soap, something else sharp and unidentifiable, and under it all that scent that was only Malfoy, warm, almost musky...  
  
Harry snapped out of it when he realized that he had been off in his own world for several minutes. Feeling a little lightheaded from breathing deeply for so long, Harry tried to think of something for conversation.   
  
"So..." Harry began awkwardly, still casting about for something to talk about. He didn't need to, though- Draco started talking at almost that same instant. His voice had an almost insistant sound to it, like there was something he had to know.  
  
"Potter- why do you always have to be so sodding _perfect_?"   
  
Harry blinked in surprise, pushing his glasses up his nose as he thought. "What do you mean...?"   
he asked, but Draco didn't really seem to be listening.  
  
"Everything you do, you do so damn easily- flying, magic, making friends- you don't even _try_! You aren't like me at all- you aren't even _proud_ of it! It's sickening- if I was in your position, I would be using all of that to my advantage, but you just let all that talent get wasted because you're so... _nice_." He spat that last word as if it were something nasty, that left a bad taste in his mouth. "You don't even have any parents. I can't understand it."  
  
Harry's back stiffened, and he snapped back without thinking. "My parents are dead, but at least mine _wanted_ me. Yours are still alive, and where are they?"  
  
"They're on a business trip." Draco's words were like venom, a defensive reaction.   
  
"A business trip? What kind of trip is more important than spending Christmas with their son- if they _love_ you?"  
  
Harry heard an angry hiss of breath, and instinctively dodged backwards, feeling the brush of air from Draco's fist passing through the space where Harry's head had just been.   
  
He had avoided the punch, but his feet got tangled in Draco's cloak. With a squeak of surprise, Harry's arms reached wildly for anything to hold him up, but he only managed to grab a double fistful of Draco's shirt before pitching forward.  
  
They landed heavily in a painful heap, Harry sprawled on top of Draco.   
  
The two boys lay silently for some time, with only the sound of the rain and their breathing. Finally, Harry broke the silence, amusement in his voice.  
  
"Jeezu, you weren't kidding about dressing expensively, were you? What is this, silk?" Harry flattened out his hands, absently running them over the smooth material.   
  
Feeling the other boy jump a little, Harry tilted his head.   
  
"It's- black silk... And could you _please_ stop massaging my chest?"  
  
Face burning red, Harry snatched his hands off Draco's chest, sitting up nervously. Draco shifted until he was holding himself up on his elbows, and neither boy mentioned that Harry was still straddling Draco's waist.   
  
"Sorry..." Harry finally replied, fidgeting a little as the silence kept drawing out. His glasses had fallen off when they landed, but since neither of them could see anyway it didn't seem that important to mention.   
  
The cloak had mostly fallen off, and was pooled across Draco's legs. Shivering a little, Harry reached down and pulled the cloak around him again, jumping a little when Draco spoke.  
  
"I'm... feeling a little cold too, Harry. Can we share it?"  
  
Harry was stunned. Draco had never called him by his first name in all their years at Hogwart's... The fact that his worst enemy was politely asking to share a cloak with half-naked little him wasn't nearly as shocking at that one word falling from Draco's lips. Harry would have been less surprised if Draco had asked to sleep with him, or said he loved him.  
  
Wondering where _those_ thoughts had come from, Harry firmly steered his mind straight and climbed off Draco, ignoring the part of him that was protesting moving.   
  
Settling down by Draco, but carefully keeping a line of air seperating them, Harry adjusted the cloak to wrap around both their shoulders. He was finding it difficult to keep from leaning against the other wizard's warmth, but he knew what Draco's reaction to _that_ would be. Draco would probably pull away in disgust, and make some jibe about Harry's sexuality. Since he didn't really need that kind of embarrassment, and wasn't in the mood to have to punch Draco out, he decided it was much safer to just keep his distance.  
  
His body, however, was ignoring his mind.   
  
He had just spent several hours working out and stretching himself on the broom, after barely eating for the last several meals and spending the nights sleepless and brooding. He realized with some alarm that he was exhausted, and that being curled up and warm next to a good smelling, attractive body was making his own body feel pleasantly squashy. It was also making it entirely difficult to obey his brain.  
  
With a sigh, Harry finally gave in, and his body melted gratefully to rest against Draco's. Draco stiffened for a moment, and the part of Harry's mind that was still mostly awake paniced, but then Draco relaxed and rested his cheek on the top of Harry's head.  
  
One of Draco's arms slid around Harry's shoulder, resting as if it belonged there.   
Amazingly, in his enemy's arms, Harry was finding that he felt safer and more like he was... _home_, than anywhere he had been in his life. Sure, he was beginning to think of Ron and the Weasley's as family- but this was different.   
  
He had known Draco even longer than he had known Ron, but even that really had nothing to do with it. Being held like this... felt _right_, somehow, like he had finally found something he'd been looking for for a long, long time...  
  
Smiling a little, and ignoring the parts of his brain that were still clanging alarms and screaming 'What the hell are you doing, he's your enemy!', Harry turned a little and wrapped his  
arms around Draco's silk-covered waist, letting his eyes slide closed.   
  
Harry had always thought that he hated Draco, but in this surreal night, wrapped in his enemy's warm embrace, he was finding something else... another kind of truth, one he had never even suspected before.   
  
They would have to face tomorrow eventually, but for one night, clinging together, feeling needed and comforted for the first time in their lives, the Boy Who Lived and the son of a Death Eater slept peacefully.  
  
  
~owari~  
  
  
Ne, what do you think? Should I try to write more, people, or leave it at that? I need comments! I'm attention starved ^_^ I've never written any limey or lemony scenes (graphic scenes) before, buuut- does anyone want one? I could always give it a go, or come up with a different story- that scene in the broom shed was just beating at my head to be written. And I'm trying so hard not to let this degenerate into sap ^_^;;; 


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